Goodbye To The Circus
by MissMimiIvy
Summary: Dick comes to realize Gotham is not like the circus.
1. Magenta

**New Story! This story as a whole was inspired by the Aqua song, which is melancholic, but i just find it more terribly morose.**

 **All Properties and Characters Belong To DC**

A slight thumping on the staircase brought Bruce up from his breakfast. Alfred was in kitchen and wouldn't makes such racket, so he wondered what Dick was doing up so early. He did not start at Gotham Academy until tomorrow.

"Bruce!" An overjoyed voice called out and echoed through Bruce's family home, while such behavior from anyone else would have annoyed Bruce, Dick joyous echo just seemed to light up the halls.

"Bruce! Bruce! Look! This is what I'm going to wear for my first day of school!" Dick yelled despite not being in the room yet. Mary and John Grayson had home schooled their son very well, and after a year of legal paperwork and catching up, Dick would likely slip into his class just fine. Bruce was waiting for his son to come into the room when a colorful smear cartwheeled into the arch that led to the kitchen.

"Bruce, Alfred, how do I look !? " Dick said spinning in a circle. The most striking aspect of Dick's outfit was a pair of dark magenta tights that led down to pair of blue sneakers that had streaks on the outer side of them, that lit up electric blue light with each slight movement. The tights were cut off by the least loud garment, a pair of jean shorts that ran to the acrobat's knees. Dick's t-shirt was a blinding red with white, hollow stars for a pattern. Bruce was pretty sure if it had longer sleeves it would be a fitting Christmas sweater.

Bruce turned to Alfred, whose face made it clear he'd had no knowledge of the clashing ensemble. Dick's hopping also triggered the metallic sound of his backpack . While it was a standard black design when Bruce had first gifted it to his son, Dick had hundreds of pins stuck into it. Making the once monochrome backpack a flood of color and logos.

Dick's brow became determined as he ran up to his father, "Bruce, what do you think ? " he asked for what felt like the millionth time. He reached and took a strip of bacon off Bruce's plate and quickly crunched it down, in the process revealing his nails to be painted the same colors as his tights.

"Dick where did you get nail polish ?" Bruce questioned, finally speaking.

Face falling briefly at Bruce's tone and lack of positive feedback, Dick looked at his hands. "One of the women you brought home last month left it in the upstairs bathroom, I was going to give it back , but then she uh…..never did," Dick said giving an awkward smirk.

Bruce's eyes widened a bit, trying to remember which woman Dick was referring to. He'd ask Alfred later. Focusing his attention on Dick, he felt his stomach shift a bit at the apprehensive smile on the boy's face.

"Dick, Gotham Academy has uniforms and a dress code. You can't wear that to school," Bruce said gently and placing a hand on Dick's starred shoulder. His son's face seemed lost for a moment, trying to process what had been said. Alfred broke the silence.

"Your uniform arrived a few days ago, I was going to lay on your bed tonight after I'd finished washing it Master Dick," Alfred said drawing the small child's attention by putting a gloved hand on the boy's right shoulder.

"Oh," Dick shifted his feet, two flashes of electric blue dotted the kitchen floor, "I guess...I thought that," Dick was trying to find something to say, something to overtake his disappointment. He'd looked in the mirror before coming down to meet his new family, loving how colorful and fun his now clothes at looked. In back of his mind he began to remember Alfred's somewhat shocked (for Alfred anyway) expression when he grabbed the colorful tights and a few other items of clothing when he'd taken him shopping last month.

Bruce saw Dick's eyes take on something hazy and noticed his little painted hands shaking. Swallowing his own scruples about showing affection, gently Bruce reached over and guided to the boy onto his lap.

"Your outfit is very nice Dick," Bruce taking the tiny hand into his and rubbing his fingers over the dried polish, "Next time we go to the park or have a picnic, I promise you can wear it," Bruce continued to rub the boy's hand. Dick remained silent, but pushed his head into Bruce's shoulder as often did whenever his father held him close, not matter the context.

"Sirs, I was hoping to have picture of you both on Master Dick's first day and wouldn't mind having more than one," Alfred spoke up entering the room holding a camera in his hands, a warm smile on his face.

Bruce and Dick looked up. Bruce smiled at his long-time friend's resourcefulness , Alfred truly did know ways to soothe even the most foreign of situations. Standing up and setting back Dick onto the ground, Bruce walked to stand next to Alfred.

Dick looked at the light of his sneakers as Bruce returned him to the floor, his gaze then followed his father taking his place next to Alfred. He felt his emotions splitting, veering from the warmth he felt at his family's kind gesture, to something he wouldn't quite grasp. Despite this he walked toward both older men and grasped Bruce's hand as they walked towards the front door.

The three men of the house entered the morning light and made their way towards a large rose bush that was in full bloom and ran into Alfred's garden. Bruce guided Dick to stand next to him and kneeled on one knee next to his son, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Dick looked at Bruce, feelings of confusion and loss evident in his face. Bruce gave him a small smile and gripped his shoulder. Taking in breath Dick mirrored his father and turned towards Alfred.

Alfred aimed the camera at his two charges and smiled slightly at both boys. Snapping the shot a few times just in case, Alfred asked, "Who would like to get another why were are out here in such lovely light Sirs, ", knowing the answer he began setting up to take another picture.

Bruce looked at Dick, who seemed to brighten a little at the attention. Launching himself into Bruce's arms and wrapping his own around Bruce's neck. Smooshing his check against Bruce's Dick looked toward the camera. Alfred nodded once the shot was taken, Bruce was shocked as Dick climbed him to perch on Bruce's shoulders. Despite knowing Dick could handle himself, Bruce placed his hands on the boy's covered knees and looked up to see Dick had placed his hands on Bruce's hair, fussying it slightly. Alfred got a shot of Bruce's eyes averted and another when he turned back toward the camera.

After taking a few more photos of Dick making silly faces, the three headed back inside. Bruce had to leave for work soon and Dick decided to enjoy his final of freedom from school by returning to sleep.

* * *

That night Bruce sat on the edge of Dick's bed, not at all affected by the strong stench of alcohol in the air. He continually moved a cotton ball back and forth over Dick's fingers. Dick had told him he could do it himself, but Bruce had insisted.

Dick watched, frowning as the dark hue disappeared from his nails and began to color parts of Bruce's fingers. Dick's eyes moved from his hands to the bottle of nail-polish remover on his bedside table. He hoped Bruce didn't think he was mad at him. He didn't know WHO he was mad at.

As Bruce finished cleaning Dick's thumb he paused and looked at him. Noticing the sour look he was giving the chemical beside him. Reached for a tissue, Bruce began wiping the off-purple from his hands and what little remained on his son's.

"Rinse your hands when go to brush your teeth," Bruce leaned over and hugged his son who returned to the gesture, "I'm sorry Dick,"

Dick pulled away, a forlorn smile gracing his features, "It's not your fault Bruce, " Dick said

Bruce leaned down and kissed his son's forehead, "Get some sleep," Bruce walked with a smiled that faded once he reached the hall outside of Dick's room. He made his way downstairs where Alfred had just finished cleaning up dinner's mess.

He sat a cup of tea in front of Bruce and both men sat down at the long dining table. Only the dim kitchen lights and a set of candles close by giving alumnation. Neither made in motion to begin a conversation for a long time, Alfred however made the first effort by taking out a small envelope from his coat pocket.. Inside where the series of photos that had taken this morning.

Bruce took in each photo and noted how Dick seemed to brighten with each picture. However, as he left his son that evening, he noted there was lack of enthusiasm of any kind.

"I feel like this is somehow my fault," Bruce said handing the photos back to Alfred.

"You know that's preposterous Sir. If anyone has to shoulder the blame, it's me," Alfred said putting the photos back into the envelope with sigh.

"How is that ? " Bruce questioned raising an eyebrow.

"I remember taking Master Dick shopping last month and him grabbing multiple articles of clothing I had not expected. The tights for example. I would have asked him where he intended to wear them, but he seemed so overjoyed. A part of me didn't want to be the one to take make the boy's world smaller with restrictions, the purpose of which escape me to this day. I ask that you forgive me Sir," Alfred ran his finger over the now filled envelope, eyes now averted from the boy he'd raised.

"I wasn't like Dick growing up, you had no point of reference when it comes to this. You made the correct decision letting Dick make his own choices. I just worry that he's going to think this is what I want for him, that I'm trying to shove him in a different direction. He's already lost so much Alfred. I've tried to give him as much as can this past year, but it won't matter when Dick realizes what life outside the Circus is going to take," Both men sat in silence.

* * *

Dick sat by his dresser , running his fingers over the pair of tights he wished he could wear tomorrow. He'd thought back to his life at the circus often, thought about life at the manor and Gotham society events were so different from the lights and big top. The only aspect they had in common was the knowledge everyone had their eyes on you. The difference was what they expected.

Dick remembered how sometimes one of the showgirls would put makeup on his eyes, his parents hadn't said a word. He remembered learning how to do clown paint when he was six, he would add colorful shapes all over his face. A part of him knew such things wouldn't be accepted outside the circus, the clowns did wash the paint off after all. He just didn't realize what other small differences there were.

Dick slid the tights back into his dresser, far into the back. Flipping off his light and flopping into his bed. Dick looked up into the darkness of his room. When he'd been schooled by his parents, he worn tons of colorful outfits and didn't think he would ever have to question that. He felt something twitching uncomfortably in the back of his mind, a thought beneath a curtain Dick hadn't and could not yet pull back. Anticipation kept him awake for awhile before tiring his mind enough to let him drift off.

 **If anyone doubts that Dick would dress this way, you haven't seen what he wore in the 90s.**

 **ALSO, I have not forgotten about Something To Me! I'm working on Chapter Two still, the stress of school kinda wounded my pace a bit. However, I'm now on break so expect it sometimes soon. Sorry for the delay.**

 **Please Leave Feedback If You Feel So Inclined And Thank You So Much For Reading**


	2. Wanderlust

**All Characters and Properties Belong To DC**

Dick burst out of the gym doors and ran down a hill his plain black backpack shaking behind him.

Dick had just gotten out of Social Studies and for the entire period he'd attended Gotham Academy, they had been in the Geography unit. While at first it had interesting since he'd traveled so much in his short life.

His Social Studies was a giddy twenty something woman with auburn blonde hair. She practically skipped to pull down the massive map that had fold to the ceiling. Adjusting her large glasses she began explaining about the equator when Dick dropped his pencil to his desk in realization. He'd been to many of those places, he'd been raised by the entire world. Now that was over. He might never get to travel anywhere again.

He'd spent the rest of the class mirroring some of his less than invested classmates. Eyes forward, but mind long absent. When they had been dismissed he followed one of the fire drill routes and escaped through the gym. As to why, he wasn't sure.

He was on the main streets of Gotham now, but still safely close to the school. His eyes found a park across the street, kids often went there and waited for their parents. Sprinting across the stress in a way that would certainly not make Alfred happy, Dick bolted into the park.

Normally he would throw himself at the bubblegum pink jungle gym, however instead he sprinted forward past every fun attraction the park could offer. A retired section of the part was ahead of him, he slowed a little. He shrugged off his backpack and let it slamming into the ground, folders and books scattering into the grass.

Dick entered the former picnic area, they had built a new one years ago, ducking under vines. He was having difficulty seeing where was going. Soon he came to a clearing of sorts, or at least the edge of the retired area. In front of him was an intricately crafted stone fountain, water he could assume was leftover rain sit in the deep bowl that was impaled by the supporting pillar.

Dick slowly and crouched down by the forgotten piece of the park, leaning into it. He began to turn his head toward the sky, streaks of wetness falling as he did so as if trying to push his face back down. It was overcast, explaining why the streets and the park were devoid of people.

Well that and most kids were still in school for four more hours.

The entire expanse of Gotham seemed to have become monochrome, if not for a single bird chirping far somewhere to his left Dick would have thought everyone had disappeared. He wondered if he should get up and keep walking, any future plans to do so were halted when a cough escaped his small throat. Covering himself out of instinct he could feel his face becoming wet as if had been splashed with rain.

When his parents died it seemed they had taken Dick's life with them. Dick finally pulled the curtain and could see what been festering in the back of his mind. His world had begun shifting the moment they died. Every small step he'd taken in his life had in the world he was born into, big tops and high wires. Animals from all over the globe in walking distance. Bright lights and smiles were the default. The best part was also that he had two homes, the circus and the entire world. Every new show gave him somewhere new. He'd been living in Gotham for a full year now, he'd lived in his birth country for a year. He remembered his mother had not loved it, however. Dick's mother and him were always the first ones ready to push onward towards the next show. Now his wondrous life of travel was over.

Dick's bright blue eyes shifted in all directions like a spinning compass. His heart began to speed up, he felt like his entire world had gotten smaller. It was as if all of Gotham was closing around him. His world, his home, was now so small. Would he ever leave Gotham ? What if the Haley's Circus just stopped and he never got to seem them again.

In his ears he heard his own sobs, pained. His drab uniform getting wet from the large tears that were trailing down his face. Dick was glad no one was in the park, how could explain this. "Hey I was adopted by wonderful man and given a mansion to live in" boo hoo.

Crossing his arms and clutching his shoulders, he continued to wail. Bruce and Alfred were going to be worried and mad, he felt nauseous. Whether this life he was building with Bruce and Alfred was going to be any good didn't matter, the sinking feeling inside him ached too much to look for something positive. A terrible virus was inside the deepest part of his gut and the only way to expel was too wait it out.

"Dick," snapping around and sending tears sliding down his cheeks Dick almost screamed when he saw his adopted father standing in the brush.

Dick leaned back onto his hand shook his head, once again he closed his eyes tight unable to handle how far everything had gotten from him. He could just barely hear the footsteps in the grass as his father approached him. His mind was racing and his body was both numb and racing. Then he felt himself being lifted.

Being carried bridal style by Bruce was something Dick was used to. Sometimes Bruce just picked him up when he decided it would be easier than explaining where they were going or if Dick just coaxed him into it.

His face fell on Bruce's shoulder and felt the strap of his black backpack touch him. He was so stupid, he went to a private school in a cesspool city that fancied itself amazing and was adopted by far one of its most powerful inhabits. Maybe someone would notice him missing.

Scrunching his eyes shut just tried to force himself to pass out, despite being too riled from stress to be tired. He bounced in his father's arms and could tell they were getting close to the street. Was Bruce going to take him back to school, his face soaking wet and red. He was screwed!

Bruce opened the car door and shrugged Dick's backpack off before clutching his son tighter and slipping into the vehicle flipping it on, Bruce looked down at the tight bundle in his arms. After the incident before Dick's first day, Bruce expected something to come up, but not outright leaving school and especially not finding his son having a panic attack in the park.

"Dick, talk to me, " he began stroking the boy's hair. There was a bit of sweat in the locs, either from running away or from how worked the boy was.

"'m scared," was all Bruce could make out from the muffled head in his shirt. Shifting Dick up slightly to that his knees were on his own and Dick was facing him, Bruce reached for a handkerchief to begin cleaning the boy's face.

"Bruce," the voice that came out of Dick's mouth wasn't totally foreign,but shocking to Bruce all the same, " How do you start from scratch ?" Dick's hands were on Bruce's shoulders parallel to him. The look in his eyes was pleading, begging for something that did not exist.

"You have help," was all Bruce said.

 **Leave Feedback If You Feel So Inclined and Thank You For Reading**


End file.
